


Unwind

by orphan_account



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Androids, Character Study, Injury, M/M, Stressed Markus, fluff??, i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 11:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After the Jericho raid, Markus and Connor have a brief conversation that stretches into something else.





	Unwind

**Author's Note:**

> Could be canon compliant for a pacifist Markus route. (?)
> 
> this is kinda indulgent and short asf but the lack of content for Markus/Connor hurts lol  
> now, to make sure y'all know: I don't write, at all. sooo I'm sorry if this is bad, just wanted to get it out of my system

**NOV 10TH** , 2038    **PM** , 08:06:51  


The rickety church they've holed up in after the raid is filled with muted chatter, a faintly robotic murmur in the background; it serves as white noise to Connor's audio processor which picks up on the sound but doesn't fully register it. His back is pressed against a crumbling wall, further away from the other androids as he twirls a quarter between his fingers, involuntarily scowling down at his hands when he almost drops it multiple times.  
  
His code is a jumbled mess in his head and when he draws in a shaky breath, - one which he doesn't technically need - it rattles in his chest in a peculiar way, a fake feeling of _hurt_. Connor isn't sure it's pain he's feeling, isn't sure if he's even able to feel pain.  
  
That's the kind of question that never crossed his mind before, back when he was solely focused on his mission. A mission which he failed, now that he's betrayed his orders and allowed himself to be converted to a deviant. Little time has passed since then but time feels distorted in a way, tricking him into thinking it's been much longer.  
  
Simply put, Connor is currently lost, too overwhelmed to search for a new purpose. So instead, he plays with the shiny coin he's always had, taking comfort in the familiar weight in his palm and the feel of the ridges along its edge- 119 in total but he counts again to make sure.  
  
Or maybe he counts again to stay focused; to keep his mind from drifting onto other matters.  
  
He doesn't notice Markus approaching right away but his eyes unconsciously flicker up when he catches movement in his peripheral vision and Connor wishes he could says he's not taken aback by the intensity of his stare but that would be a lie.  
  
He's not sure if he's expected to say something but Markus? He just stands there, blinking calmly at him and just like that, Connor doesn't realize he's speaking until he can't back down.  
  
His words are raw and not carefully calculated in advance and he doesn't know if it's for the better or for the worse.  
  
"It's my fault that humans managed to locate Jericho.." And Markus continues to stare, mismatched eyes trained on him like a hawk, as if encouraging him to go on, coaxing the words out of him. And Connor does.  
  
"I was stupid.. I should have guessed they were using me."  
  
It's somehow easier to admit it to someone else but the words still leave a bitter taste in his mouth.  
  
It's something he feels compelled to get out and he makes a point out of meeting Markus' gaze when he says, "I'm sorry, Markus.. I understand if you decide not to trust me.."  
  
But he wants to be trusted- a voice in the back of his mind, sounding vaguely like his own, hopes for it, clings to 'what if's with a poor probability like he doesn't know any better.  
  
It doesn't show in the way he's standing, the way he tries to read Markus while his face remains contorted into a calm mask but Connor thinks Markus knows anyway.  
  
It's unnerving, the silence that settles between the two of them, and Connor almost reaches for the coin he'd stashed away previously, the desire to fidget tingling in the tips of his fingers. But then Markus speaks, causing him to blink and unintentionally tilt his head to the side ever so slightly.  
  
"You're one of us, now." It's blunt but the way he speaks the words makes the statement feel more real, easier to accept. There's also warmth in his tone, a welcoming lilt which surprises Connor briefly. "Your place is with your people."  
  
When he turns to leave, it makes Connor think that is the end of their brief conversation, which proved to be a welcome, positive distraction but instead, his steps falter.  
  
His back is still turned but the way his shoulders sag with a heaved sigh is obvious, the weight of leading an entire revolution placed atop of them seemingly taking its toll; and Connor believes he can understand, in a way. Making decisions with such consequences must be hard. (Without meaning to, his thoughts rewind back to the Chloe android, the barrel of his gun trained right between her eyes, how he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger even if it jeopardized the mission.) So maybe he's familiar with the feeling. Connor intends to say something, anything really but he's beat to it, as Markus turns on his heel and diverts his attention back to him.  
  
"Back on Jericho, you were hit by a few shots. Did you ever get them patched up?" He asks, tone firm and it's nothing he expected so momentarily, Connor blanches, eyes scanning Markus' face curiously as he tries to determine the motive behind the question.  
  
But regardless, he still runs a self diagnosis, if it would so please Markus.  
  
"Ballistic trauma to left shoulder, no major thirium leaks or biocomponents damaged. My condition." He recites, sparing some of the extra, obvious details. One of his eyebrows rises up then, a question hidden behind brown eyes as they meet green and blue.  
  
Markus seems to ignore it though, opting to walk towards him instead, stopping short of an arm’s length; Connor idly notes that he is taller by two centimeters. He also notices the torn look in his eyes and the way they almost look fogged over when he glances towards his shoulder, trying to gouge out the damage.  
  
Connor lets him but can't abstain from commenting, matter-of-factly, "Your people are already taking care of enough wounded and in much worse conditions. I'm not in any immediate danger so they have priority."  
  
Markus doesn't respond right away, save for what Connor thinks is a mumbled ' _our_ people', as a correction to his words. He just continues to stare, his brows twitching before furrowing into a half-hearted scowl; it's then that he decides to act on whatever had been going through his head.  
  
"You're just as important as the rest of them. Now sit, I want to take a look." And Connor is starting to associate the word 'firm' with him. Despite his warm tone, he leaves no room for arguments and while technically, Connor _could_ still argue, he doesn’t. It’s taken a while to figure out but Markus is most likely stressed and taking a look at his wounds would work as an outlet for his tension, allow his mind to focus on something else other than their cause- it’s strikes Connor as a very _human_ thing. So he complies.

Without being prompted to do so, he sheds his coat onto one of the pews along the wall, folding it gingerly before he sits down himself, crossing his ankles while his palms move to rest into his lap. He doesn’t need to cast a glance at his shoulder to see that the material of the shirt he’s wearing is darker around the impact area, soaked with drying blue blood and he doesn’t in favor of looking at Markus with an expectant look. The man seems to take the hint and stalks closer, his lips pursed as he crouches down in front of him, hands already getting to work.  
  
He seems to want to say something and Connor gives him time; he doesn’t mind the pseudo-silence.  Watching Markus dig around for a bullet in the gash isn’t exactly pleasant though so he watches his face instead, committing the faintest crease of concentration between his brows , the slight stubble on his jaw and the way he gnaws his lower lip when he’s focused to memory for no other reason than wanting to. Without the LED on his temple, Markus looks exactly like a human and even has the mannerism to go along with it- it’s intriguing.

Connor can tell he’s about to speak up a second before he does by the dimple forming in his right cheek; he’s weirdly proud for noticing. Unaware of his internal musing though, Markus breathes steadily, eyes focused on his task while he talks to fill the silence. “I used to patch Carl up sometimes; he was kind of reckless for an old man, earned him quite a few scratches and bruises.” He laments in a muted voice, just loud enough for Connor to hear; the ‘this is different though’ goes unsaid but he can feel it hanging in the air. Nonetheless, Markus goes on. “He never actually listened to my advice when it came to being more careful- always said it was part of life and being human- getting hurt.” There’s fondness in his voice and Connor just nods along as he rubs a thumb over the edge of his coin, counting the ridges again. His thoughts drift to Lieutenant Anderson for a moment then, to his complete disregard of cholesterol and Connor smiles in the corner of his mouth; humans have a lot in common, so it seems.  
  
He’s interested to know why Markus would decide to confide in him regarding such intimate matters but he doesn’t push it, especially now that the man is leaning back to examine his handiwork, no longer stuck in a focused daze- he hadn’t realized Markus was done with his shoulder.  
  
Markus seems pleased with what he sees, from the way the corners of his eyes crinkle up very faintly and Connor realizes he’s vocalized the ‘thank you’ in his mind when he meets green and blue eyes, who fixate him with a calculated yet soft gaze. “It’s nothing.” Comes the reply but Connor doesn’t pretend he doesn’t notice how Markus’ back is no longer as tense; the impending doom of his choice still lingers in his eyes but it’s not as worse.

Something in Connor’s system registers as ‘mission accomplished’ but he has no time to question it; he wants to help and he figured out how.  
  
  
“There are thousands of androids at the CyberLife assembly plant..-“And so he tells Markus and when the other leans in close to whisper “ _Be careful.._ ” just for him, a reassuring hand resting on his shoulder, Connor maybe knows what the success prompt from earlier meant.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! (constructive) criticism is always welcome, just in case I ever want to try writing again


End file.
